


Sometimes

by She_Who_Shall_Not_Be_Named



Category: Adam Lambert (Musician), Sauli Koskinen RPF, Tommy Ratliff (Musician)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-06
Updated: 2013-04-06
Packaged: 2017-12-07 15:44:47
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,466
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/750223
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/She_Who_Shall_Not_Be_Named/pseuds/She_Who_Shall_Not_Be_Named
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>We’ve all been there. We’ve all been through break ups and none of us felt the need or desire to share the how or the why with the whole wide world. We can only respect this private matter, their private decision and give them both the space and rest they need. </p><p>This is my way of saying goodbye to them as lovers.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sometimes

**Author's Note:**

> Couldn't be more proud of them, they were an inspiration while being together and now they're an inspiration during a difficult time... ♥

Tommy already knew, they had both announced it to their circle of friends and family a few days to the article being released. He knew it would be all over every possible social network he was on. Being ‘in-the-spotlight’ so to speak for the last four years, he’d got his fair share of love and adoration which he truly loved and appreciated _and_ an equal amount of hate, jealousy and other meaningful bullshit which made him laugh out loud most of the time. Yet, when he opened his twitter and went to check his mentions, the things he saw made him sigh deeply and curse really, _really_ loud and hard. Amongst the ‘usual’ daily stuff there was an even bigger amount, not to say a hugemungous amount of tweets going from ‘OMG! Did you hear!?’ to ‘You fucking son of bitch!! This is all your fucking fault!’ to ‘ICU Pretty Kitty’ to ‘Yes! Fucking finally!!’ to ‘Take care of him Tommy, #friendsforlife.’

He could only imagine what his two other friends would find on theirs. He knew both had professional obligations; Adam was out doing a shoot for the Trevor Project while Sauli was shooting for his own show.  He ends up sending them both a text, the same one. _‘As to be expected, Twitter is all over the place – nothing stands out tho – call me if you need anything.’_

Later, when Adam texts him back and they end up texting back and forth he can’t shake this feeling, this gut feeling that made him re-arrange the rest of his day. “I’m good Tommy, a bit tired, but good.” Adam assures his friend when he calls him during a small break. They chit and chat, have some meaningless small talk, crack a few stupid jokes and Tommy hears it, or more specifically, he _doesn't_ hear it. The mojo, that larger than life energy that is Adam’s. He doesn't need to see his friend to know he’s not doing as good as he says he is. Tommy doesn't push though, he’s making mental notes, yet he doesn't push. When Adam tells him that the shoot will start again and he’ll call later when he’s back home end they've ended the call he lets his frustration out. “Doing good my ass! Who the fuck does he think I am? Mary fucking Poppins?”

And with that he picks up his phone again, searches for the right contact and waits for the other end to pick up. “Hey man, it’s me. How’s it hanging? Listen dude, I’m gonna cut right down to the chase here. Remember that favour you owe me? Well, I’m cashing in man. I need you to come pick me up and drop me off at a friend’s place in Hollywood like right the fuck now. OK, I’ll be down in fifteen minutes.”

Double checking his acoustic guitar is safely placed in its case he goes in search for his keys and wallet, making a mental grocery list as he goes to put on his shoes, hoodie and his favourite worn down jacket. His friend, true to his words, shows up fifteen minutes later and rings his doorbell in the usual ‘get your ass down’ signal.  His guitar safely placed on the back seat he gets in, tells him the address to Adam’s place without telling who he’s going to visit, it is after all, no one’s business. His friend doesn’t say a word and Tommy’s glad for silence. Granted his ‘dude-just-shut-the-fuck-up-and-drive-face’ will surely have helped. “There’s a supermarket nearby, we need to make a quick stop there along the way, “ he says as they’re fifteen minutes away from Adam’s place and gives directions to the grocery story.”

With a simple “Wait for me here, I won’t be long.” Tommy’s out of the car in record time. Not even eight minutes later Tommy gets back in to the car carrying two bags which contains ice cream, an impressive multitude of different candy wraps, a dozen of Bacardi Breezer (Adam’s favorite), a handful of chocolate bars to name but a few things. “What’s in the bags?” his friend inquired. “Comfort food."

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

A knock on the door draws Adam back to the real world, away from his thoughts.  Looking through the peephole he recognizes the blond explosion of hair immediately.  “Tommy? What are you doing here?” Adam asks, a surprised look on his face, as he opens the door. “What’s it look like I’m doing dude? Knitting?” He hands his guitar case to Adam and doesn’t wait for another reply and makes his way inside, going straight for the kitchen and places the bags on the counter before taking out the ice cream tubs and put them – all but one - in the freezer.

“Tommy,” Adam calls again. “Really, what are you doing here?” Without bothering to look up he continues to unpack the bags. “Again dude, what’s it fucking look like I’m doing?”

Adam takes a deep breathe, and another, and another. “I appreciate the gesture, but really man, I’m fine.” With that, he does look up to Adam, raising his eyebrows as he looks at his friend stating nothing more than a simple “Uhu.”

Acting exactly like the stubborn motherfucker he can be at times, Adam insists. “Really, I’m fine Tommy. Go home.” _Two can play that game dude_ Tommy thinks as he takes the ice cream tub  as well as the bag with the candy with him to the couch and pores out its entire content onto the coffee table and pets the place next to him. Eventually Adam goes to sit next to him, body language all tensed and all wrong, just plain wrong.

“Dude! Stop it for fuck sake! It’s just the two of us,” he replies with conviction. He’ll be damned to let Adam deal with this all by himself and he straightens his back, planting his right foot firmly on the ground as he’s trying to make a point here. “There’s no need for you to -”

“I miss him.” Adam blurts out. “I… I just… It just hurts you know.” He sighs deeply as he closes his eyes and let his head rest on Tommy’s shoulder. In the end Tommy let his head rest against Adam’s and both sit like that for quite some time, it’s only a matter of time before Adam would start talking again. “It’s not like I can call him up and pour my heart out to him in an attempt to get this pain of my chest is it?”

“No? Says who?” Tommy points out. “Dude, you fucking managed with Brad. You fucking managed with Drake. There’s not one shred of doubt you and Sauli will remain the best of friends. You’re allowed to morn and dwell in self-pity and have all the post break up moods and shit if you feel like it. God damn it Adam! You’re fucking allowed to have them man and yes, I promise you, if it gets too much and you’re walking around in circles going all ‘I’m all alone in the world, blablabla, nobody loves me and shit’ I’ll be the first to come and fucking kick that cute little ass of yours so hard you’ll feel my boot for days. Now, shut up, sit up straight and eat your goddamn ice cream unless you want a straw and drink it.”

“I just.. If only… I, I don’t… ” Adam sighs again, pain written all over his features. “I wish that… That sometimes…” Chocking on the words, eyes watering, he lowers his head in defeat, covering his face with his hands. Tommy’s heart breaks a little at the sight. He knows, he fucking knows, that no amount of words, no matter how well meant can take away the pain Adam’s feeling right now. Nothing will be big enough or right enough right now to put back the pieces of his wounded heart. He knows, all too well, that nothing will make that horrible junction disappear. The one where your mind knows you made the right decision and your bleeding heart is screaming at you to undo it, to take it back.

“Because, sometimes, love just isn’t enough is it.” He whispers in Adam’s hair as he pulls him closer to his body and hugs him fiercely. And with that, as simple as that, it’s all said and done.

“When did you become this wise, all knowing man?” Adam asks him eventually between tears and sniffles. If anything it warms his heart to have all these wonderful people around him. “Well,” Tommy speaks. “I have these amazing two friends, ex-lovers actually, who thought me a very valuable lesson. Wanna hear it?” Adam simply shrugs. “The lesson is as follows,” Tommy goes on. “Rakastan, no matter what, in the end, it will always remain.”


End file.
